


in which Cat and Kara move in together before they've even admitted to liking each other

by SapphicScholar



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/F, and they were roommates!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:42:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28296969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphicScholar/pseuds/SapphicScholar
Summary: Prompt: For some reason Kara has to stay with the Grants for a while, but when the time comes for her to go back to her place, Carter (and maybe Cat, too) keeps finding excuses for her to stay a little while longer
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Cat Grant
Comments: 37
Kudos: 273
Collections: Super Santa Femslash 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GaneWhoo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GaneWhoo/gifts).



> I had so much fun with your prompt, Gane! I hope you enjoy, and happy holidays :)
> 
> A/N: fic is set nebulously somewhere very early in S2 minus the pod and obviously without Cat’s impending departure (canon, what canon?)

The first night is easy. Kara spends most of the evening dealing with some new Reactron wannabe who’s built himself a mechanized suit that malfunctions before he can even land a punch and leaves Kara trailing after him, putting out fires and protecting innocent bystanders. At Alex’s insistence, she spends a few hours in the sunbed, then flies right to CatCo. And honestly? Who needs an apartment when she’s barely in it anyway?

The second night is a bit more challenging. She soars through the skies, but the city is quiet and still, no threats on the horizon, and she’s learned better than to swoop in and intervene for the little stuff every time. Instead, she floats by her old apartment building and looks wistfully at the massive hole in the side of the building that was once her home. She should’ve been more careful about not flying in and out of the balcony window so often—Alex _did_ warn her—but it was just so convenient… And now she can’t even volunteer all her time as Supergirl to help expedite the building’s reconstruction because Alex is convinced even more people will realize it’s where she lives. Eventually, she heads back to CatCo and unrolls her sleeping bag on the ground in the little office Cat gave her just a few short weeks ago to prepare for her transition into a new job with Snapper.

The next morning, Cat narrows her eyes at Kara as she hands over Cat’s latte. But she’d showered down in the CatCo gym, and honestly, it’s not like she sweats like a human in the first place. Still, she gives herself a quick sniff before hurrying behind Cat and giving her a rundown of the most promising applicants to take over as Cat’s personal assistant. Once she’s handed over her typed notes on each of their strengths and potential “areas for growth” in the position, Cat folds her hands on her desk and sighs.

“Um, did I forget something, Ms. Grant?”

“Kara, how do I phrase this tactfully?”

Kara grimaces and braces herself for whatever is to come.

“If it has gotten to this point, perhaps a conversation about drawer space with Mr. Olsen is overdue.” Kara tilts her head to the side, and Cat gestures up and down with her hand. “The same hideous outfit two days in a row. Do I really need to spell it out for you?”

“Oh! Oh, no! I mean, yes, it is. But it’s not—I’m not—James and I aren’t dating.” She’s not sure why that feels like the most important thing to clarify, but it just is.

“Hmm.” Cat sits back in her chair. “Surprises all around from you, Kara. Be that as it may, a new day, a new outfit, yes?”

Kara’s cheeks flame red as she nods. “Of course.” She curses under her breath as she heads back to her office. She’d taken the change of clothes from the DEO after her night in the sunbeds there, but she’d forgotten that, in the midst of a dramatic change, she’d ripped all the buttons off the shirt she stored in her CatCo desk, and by the time she’d realized this morning it was too late to run back to Alex’s and grab a new outfit if she wanted to get Cat’s latte on time.

On her lunch break that day, she flies to Alex’s apartment and brings the whole suitcase back with her, stuffing it under her desk and hoping no one notices.

Of course, the following morning, she wakes up to a knocking at her office door. She superspeeds into a new outfit, and tries to look industrious, like someone who’d voluntarily started her workday at 6am, when she pops her head out the door. “Ms. Grant! I didn’t, um, expect you. Let me go get your latte, it’ll just take a moment, and I’ll—”

“It is far too early for that much rambling.” Cat rubs at the bridge of her nose, and Kara notices that she’s carrying her own coffee cup.

“Right. What can I, uh, do for you?”

“You remember the upgrades I made to the building’s security system a few years back, right?”

“Yes. Do they need updating?”

“No, no. But you might recall that I am alerted if, say, an employee swipes into the building in the middle of the night. Or if the door to the roof is wrenched open at 2 in the morning.”

“Oh.” Kara blinks back at Cat. “You see, there are actually many perfectly reasonable explanations.”

“Yes, yes, much like I have many perfectly reasonable explanations for deleting bits of my own security footage every time my mild-mannered assistant rips off her shirt in the stairwell and flies out from the roof to save the day.” Cat holds up a hand before Kara can interject. “I haven’t published anything in all this time, so please, no more excuses. We’ll just let it be an open secret…like the sexual history of a straight Radcliffe alum.”

“I’m sorry,” Kara whispers.

“Did I say I needed an apology?” Kara closes her mouth, and Cat continues on. “Now I may not pay you much, but surely you can still afford your apartment in whatever little artsy, half-gentrified corner of this city you call home.”

Rubbing at the back of her neck, Kara ducks her head. “It was, uh, targeted. Remember the Valeronians that came to town a week or so ago? Big guys, powerful axes, grudge against Supergirl for defeating their buddy Vartox last year?”

“Of course. CatCo’s copter caught their little boy’s night of drinking and destruction.”

With a sigh, Kara drops her head into her hands. “Yeah…that was my apartment.”

“I see.”

“And the D—uh, the people who help Supergirl, it’s just really cold and clinical there. And my sister is letting me stay with her, but also she’s dating James’s ex, and her bedroom doesn’t really have a door, and honestly, super-hearing is kind of a curse sometimes. A lot of the times, actually.” She shudders, and rubs at her eyes, realizing that she’s forgotten her glasses. Though, she figures, it really doesn’t matter anymore. At least not with Cat. “And hotels, well, they have security cameras and windows that don’t open, so it’s not really conducive to…you know.”

“Up, up, and away?” Cat asks, a teasing lilt to her voice that’s enough to have some of the tension easing from Kara’s shoulders.

“Something like that.”

Biting at the arm of her glasses, Cat nods her head a few times. “Give me a few hours.”

She’s gone before Kara can think to ask what she means, though a moment later, Cat pokes her head back in the doorway. “Oh, and I’ll need another latte at 8 to make up for how early I got here to have this little chat with you.”

“Yes, Ms. Grant.”

\---

Kara figures Cat might have found a few short-term apartment listings. (Honestly, she’s been looking at them herself, but the idea of moving seems so…ugh.) Still, it would be thoughtful and helpful, and she’s pretty done with sleeping on an office floor and lying to Alex about why she hasn’t been back to sleep on her couch.

Instead, Cat comes into her office later that morning and tells her, “You can stay with us until your little apartment is fixed.”

Kara accidentally crushes the pen she’s holding and grabs a handful of tissues to blot up all the ink that’s now staining her hand. Cat shoots the offending object a disdainful look, but she shakes her hair out of her face and clarifies, “Obviously you’re coming over as Supergirl—there are plenty of large windows and balconies for you to leave from. I won’t suffer the optics of my assistant traipsing in and out of my home at odd hours of the night.”

“Soon to be former assistant,” Kara mumbles, even as she nods. “But, Ms. Grant, you really don’t have to do this.”

“I know, Kara. I’m rich enough that there are very few things I still have to do.”

“And what about Carter?”

“Why do you think I told you to wait a few hours? Obviously he was the first and only person I cleared this with.”

“Right. And he doesn’t mind?”

“Oh, he’s ecstatic at the idea.”

“And you? I mean, people might see Supergirl flying in and out of your apartment and think…you know.”

Cat shrugs. “And? Significantly less flattering things have been said about me.”

There’s no good response besides a very sincere _thank you_ , which is how Kara finds herself landing on the balcony of Cat Grant’s penthouse apartment, two suitcases in her arms and a bag of pastries from Cat’s favorite French bakery clutched in her hand.

“Supergirl!” Carter cries, flinging open the balcony doors and motioning for her to come in.

“Hey Carter, it’s been a while, huh?”

Carter shoots an unimpressed look at her that’s strikingly reminiscent of Cat’s own work expressions. “I saw you last week, Kara. You helped me with my math homework.”

“Oh, you, uh, know?”

Cat cuts in, reaching out and taking the paper bag full of pastries from Kara before her fingers tear through it. “Like I’ve said, he’s quite brilliant. Also, you abandoned him while babysitting him every single time Supergirl was needed, then knew exactly where he was on the train and made sure he was safe before everyone else.”

Kara cringes at the reminders of exactly how disastrous that whole incident had been. “Right.”

“This way.”

She strides through the rooms, cutting as imposing of a figure barefoot in her own home as she does at CatCo. “Your room until your apartment has walls again.”

Kara peers in, her eyes widening at the plush carpeting and the bed that looks much more comfortable than her own. She carefully stows her bags in the corner before turning back to Cat.

“Some ground rules.” Kara fights the urge to pull out a notebook. “No shoes on inside.” Kara has her boots off and stowed in the closet in an instant. “I gave you the guest room with big bay windows for you to come and go, though you’re also welcome to the balcony. But if you come back covered in soot, grim, dirt, alien…goo, anything of the sort, you are not to step foot into this house until you are clean.”

Kara grimaces, remembering the time she’d insisted to Alex that she didn’t need to go back to the DEO with her, only to find that the supersuit she’d thrown into her hamper the night before had left her whole apartment smelling of rotten eggs by the next morning. “Got it.”

“If you finish something in the fridge or pantry, make a note of it so I can add it to the weekly grocery order. If Carter needs quiet for his homework, that means a quiet hours policy is in effect.”

“Anything else, Ms. Grant?”

Cat frowns. “Just Cat here. If you could manage it as Supergirl, you can manage it as Kara when you’re staying in my home.”

Kara gives a quick nod, then turns to Carter. “Anything I should or shouldn’t do for you?” Kara tries not to preen when she catches sight of Cat’s approving smile.

He shrugs. “We do weekly game nights if you have any games you want to play. Just don’t eat all the snacks here, okay? Mom doesn’t let me get that many.”

“Deal,” Kara agrees with a handshake and an easy smile.


	2. Chapter 2

Considering that the only people Cat has lived with as an adult are also people she has divorced, the new cohabitation is going surprisingly well.

In the early evenings, Kara helps Carter with his science and math homework, for which Cat is eternally grateful, and she’s taken over the role of dish-washer on the nights when Cat cooks dinner for them all at home. She helps to keep things tidy around the apartment, too, rarely leaving anything larger than a book or her laptop out except on the movie nights, which she insists demand a pile of pillows and fleecy blankets and a hideous off-brand Supergirl onesie that the IT hobbit apparently purchased for her as a gag gift. But Carter has fun, and Cat doesn’t protest the first time Kara throws a blanket over her lap.

There have, of course, been a few hiccups along the way, points of tension that leave Cat bristling and frustrated for the evening—the good wine glasses put in the wrong level of the dishwasher; a stray few muddy footprints on the cream carpeting in front of the balcony doors; an attempt at being helpful and doing laundry that leads to a dry-clean-only silk blouse being tossed into a decidedly non-gentle cycle on the wash. The swish of Kara’s cape when she swoops back inside in the middle of the night is also quite a bit louder than she seems to think it is, given how surprised she always acts when Cat knows that she’s been out on Supergirl duty the night before. Then again, Cat’s always been a light sleeper with recurrent bouts of insomnia, so it’s nothing new. What’s important is that Carter seems to sleep right through it, though he also sleeps straight through his alarm more often than not these days, so perhaps Cat shouldn’t have worried.

It’s during their second weekend together that Cat, having sent Carter to bed and settled in on the opposite end of the couch from Kara, is hit with the realization that she rather enjoys having another adult around. With Kara’s officially working as a junior reporter with Snapper and a new employee sitting outside Cat’s office who’s managed to survive a whole day—a promising start—some of the caution about maintaining strict boundaries has fallen away.

Kara holds out a glass of wine to Cat with a murmured, “Eve mentioned what happened with the sports layouts.”

Cat sighs loudly and takes a long sip of her wine. “Surely, I do not deserve the sheer incompetence I deal with on a daily basis.”

“I’m sure you put the fear of God in them, and they’ll manage to get it right this time.”

Cat is less optimistic. “Best not to dwell in fantasy. Speaking of, have you earned a chair yet? Or your name”

Kara lets out a loud huff. “Maybe the chair. Still ‘Ponytail.’”

Snapper is a perennial topic of complaint these days. Kara spends the after-dinner hours venting to Cat about him, and Cat tells her to keep at it, to listen and learn and take what lessons she can get from him without letting him chase away all the enthusiasm that, in Cat’s estimation, will make her an excellent reporter in time. Still, she can’t help the occasional snide reminder that she lets her assistants have their chairs from the start, and yet somehow _she’s_ the one with the reputation for being a tyrant.

Cat relaxes back into the couch, listening to Kara regale her with stories from her day and trying not to think about what she’ll do when Kara’s apartment is fully rebuilt but she’s no longer working with Cat all day. Go into withdrawal, probably. That inconvenient little frisson of attraction she’s been dutifully ignoring for the past year or two seems to have morphed into something so much bigger and more dangerous. She thinks maybe it started around Livewire’s attacks. Or saving the world together at her old broadcasting station. All she knows is that living together is not helping. Not when she feels altogether too fond at the sight of a bleary-eyed Kara stumbling into the kitchen every morning. Or when she waits up each time she hears Kara fly out into the night, needing to know she’s returned safely. And certainly not on nights like these, when she watches Kara’s walls come down, gets to talk her through her frustration and anxiety, laugh along with her at her stories, celebrate in her minor victories.

“Cat?”

Cat blinks, trying to remember what Kara was saying. “What was that?”

“I, uh, I was asking if you might give me some feedback on the article I’m working on? I totally get it if you’re too busy! I just…I know that you can be ruthless as an editor, but I know you. I trust your judgment.” She shrugs. “I get that Snapper’s in charge of _The Tribune_ , but I don’t think he’s the only one who has a lot to teach me.”

Cat bites the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. “I suppose I have some extra time tonight.”

\---

It is sometime during Kara’s third week with them that Cat starts to realize that there are serious downsides to living with a woman who has so quickly and easily insinuated herself into their lives. Because when Kara casually mentions that the contractors think she could be back in her apartment as early as the following week, everything seems to shatter.

Carter, who has been more enthusiastic than ever about living with a woman who’s not only his favorite superhero but also his personal idol these days, seems to shut down and sink back into himself. He picks at the quinoa on his plate, barely managing a few bites before asking to be excused.

And Cat, well, she can barely manage a nod when she’s much too distracted by the conflicting thoughts colliding and leaving her with the start of a tension headache. Because she should be _ecstatic_ about having her apartment back. Should be grateful that she might be able to sleep through the night again and not spend her mornings with her gaze glued to her phone, trying not to stare at muscular bare legs as Kara makes breakfast in little running shorts. Maybe she’ll even shake whatever this _thing_ between them is turning into with enough time and space.

But all Cat feels is panic. Panic at going back to the same quiet nights spent alone with her work and her tablet while Carter is off doing his homework. Panic at the idea of knowing that Kara will be out risking her life each day but not having the reassurance that comes with hearing her land on the balcony or swoop in through the window. Panic at losing whatever form of…friendship they’ve been building over the past few weeks.

“That’s great,” Cat manages, finding that she’s also lost her appetite. “I have to deal with the mess from accounting, so if you would”—she gestures haphazardly behind her at the kitchen—“pack up the leftovers when you’re done.”

She’s gone before Kara can say another word.

And for the next several days, Kara is suspiciously quiet about the impending move. It’s enough that Carter seems to have relaxed somewhat, willing to ask Kara a question during dinner on Thursday about something his math teacher mentioned in class. Still, it’s clear he hasn’t let go of the hurt when he fixes Kara with a stern look later that night and tells her, “I’m going to my dad’s this weekend. You can’t leave without saying goodbye.”

“I wouldn’t!”

After a moment, Carter gives a solemn little nod before going off to pack his bag.

Of course, while Carter’s gone, everything goes to hell.

Because there’s no longer a convenient 12-year-old buffer between them to defuse the tension or bring them back to earth when it feels like they’re hovering on a precipice between this fragile friendship they’re forging and something else—something that feels new and dangerous and enticing all the same, something that sets Cat’s hearts racing and has her fingers itching to reach out when the two of them wind up on the couch, sitting closer and closer together each night.

It’s there in the moments when Kara casually drops by Cat’s office with a fresh latte after a particularly stressful meeting. It’s there when Kara suggests watching a movie—one of Cat’s favorites—that Friday night to keep Cat from dwelling on how much she misses Carter. And _god_ is it there Saturday morning when Kara, noticing Cat struggling to reach the new coffee filters, simply steps up behind her and reaches over her head to pluck them down. Cat has to clutch the marble countertops and count to 10, then to 20, to try to quiet her racing heart and drive away thoughts of all the other things they could do with a countertop and Kara wrapped around her.

So she spends most of Saturday holed up in her office, trying to do work and not entertaining the images her brain is currently merging of Kara and those tiny running shorts and those strong arms bending her over her kitchen counter and—no, decidedly not entertaining those thoughts.

At some point that evening, she hears the whoosh of Kara shooting off into the air, and she lets herself relax into her chair as she flips over to CatCo’s homepage to see what’s happening. No aliens or metahumans seem to be rampaging downtown, but she spots a developing story about the fire department responding to a call about a kitchen fire. It’s not the kind of thing Kara would normally respond to, but it’s a restaurant Cat thinks she remembers Kara getting takeout from before. Well, at least it should be fairly fast and hopefully not too dangerous.

Still, it takes longer than expected for Kara to return, and Cat’s pacing her bedroom and flipping through the various channels again and again by the time a small knock sounds from her bedroom’s balcony.

She pulls the curtains back, frowning at a very sooty Supergirl hovering over her balcony, shooting her a sheepish grin.

“Hi,” she says when Cat slides open the door. “You told me not to come in if I was dirty. I thought I could maybe float to the bathroom but decided not to risk the white carpets again.”

“Cream,” Cat corrects without thinking. “And please don’t.” She looks Kara up and down. “You’re filthy. Isn’t there some black ops site with a shower for you?”

Fidgeting in the air, Kara pulls her lower lip between her teeth, promptly grimacing at the taste of ash on her tongue. “There are some…visitors there right now. And I probably shouldn’t fly in as Supergirl and out as Kara in the sweatpants I have stuffed in my locker.”

“Mm, so it only took losing your whole apartment to learn a bit of caution?”

“Apparently.”

“Let me get some of the cleaning towels, hold on.” A minute later, Cat returns and tosses a damp hand towel at Kara, who quickly wipes off her face and hands, managing to get most of the remaining ash from her hair as well. Still, there are some stubborn smudges that remain, and after watching Kara somehow miss them again and again, Cat finally grabs the washcloth with a huffy comment about superheroes who can put out whole fires but not manage to get the dirt from their jaw. She can’t bring herself to be rough and mechanical about it, though. Instead they’re back on that dangerous precipice as Cat carefully holds Kara in place, her other hand come up to slowly wipe away the lingering soot from her jaw and her temple, then the little streak behind her ear that makes Kara shiver.

“The suit,” Kara croaks, her voice thick and rougher than usual. “It’s, uh, it’s dirty, too.”

“Right.” Cat swallows heavily. “It—it shouldn’t come inside the house.”

Kara nods, and after a moment of uncertainty, she reaches behind her, finding some zipper that Cat’s never noticed—not that she’s been looking, mind you—and then she’s slowly peeling it off. Soon enough, it’s hanging down around Kara’s waist, leaving sculpted abs on full display beneath a fitted black sports bra that Cat desperately wants to peel off of Kara. Instead, she shoves the last of the towels at Kara and practically trips over her own feet as she spins around and heads inside.

“Um, thanks,” Kara mumbles a moment later, now wrapped up in one of Cat’s shittiest towels, long legs and bare feet padding along the carpet as she edges her way around Cat’s bed. “I’ll come back to, you know, deal with the suit later. I just want to shower.” She flashes a self-deprecating smile Cat’s way. “I doubt you’d appreciate the smell of smoke everywhere.”

Cat holds her tongue and doesn’t offer to let Kara know if she tastes like smoke as well.

Instead, she practically throws herself into her own shower as soon as she hears the water running down the hall. Her hand working quickly between her own legs, she bites her fist to keep from making a sound and comes harder than she has in months.


	3. Chapter 3

Kara studiously avoids Cat all of Saturday evening. She doesn’t think she can possibly make eye contact after doing _that_ in the shower—and thank Rao her apartment will be ready by the end of the week. Being attracted to Cat and a little scared of her for years had been one thing. Normal, healthy, fine. Being attracted to Cat and also closer than ever as _both_ Kara Danvers and as Supergirl? Well, that’s dangerous. It’s dangerous in a way that she’d insisted a few fantasies every now and then about her new office or Cat’s balcony never were. Because now…now everything feels _possible_. Like maybe she really could slide over a few extra inches on the couch and hold Cat’s hand or fake a bit of Supergirl confidence and linger on those mornings when Cat can’t seem to take her eyes off of Kara. But no, it would never work. She has a friend in Cat, maybe, and that is more than she dared to hope for once upon a time.

To avoid any more confusing moments, Kara waits in her room until she hears Cat head back down to her office, then sneaks out to make a quick, quiet dinner that she eats alone for the first time since she’s moved in with the Grants. She doesn’t ask Cat about a movie or a round of Scrabble, either—just slinks back to her room and takes Buzzfeed quizzes with Winn, who has been a very good friend in letting her insist that it’s super casual that she’s living with the woman she’s had a crush on for years.

Eventually, once she’s caught up on the past month of quizzes promising to guess her age or her best personality trait, Kara decides she may as well deal with her sooty suit, so she grabs a garbage bag from the kitchen and, after checking for the CatCo copter, flies from her window to Cat’s balcony, landing softly and carefully packing the suit, boots, and dirty towels into the bag. Tomorrow she’ll deal with washing everything at the DEO; tonight she just needs to sleep and try not to think about the woman down the hall…who is currently staring back at her, wrapped up in a tiny robe that, Kara thinks to herself, is absolutely indecent and should maybe be worn around the apartment at all times.

She gestures helplessly at the bag and mouths, “My suit!” hoping that Cat will understand.

She does not.

A moment later, Cat pulls open the door and narrows her eyes. “Spend much time on my personal balcony, Supergirl?”

Rubbing at the back of her neck, Kara shakes her head. “No. I just wanted to get my laundry to wash…elsewhere.”

Cat hums and steps back slightly. “I suppose I should just count my blessings and be happy I was dressed by the time you showed up.”

Kara can’t help the way her eyes flick up and down at the short nightgown beneath a tiny robe—is it satin or silk? She can never remember the difference, not that it really matters. Words. She should say words. Something. “I like your pajamas,” she manages, hating herself a little bit for it. “They’re, um, different than the ones you wear for movie night.”

Cat pins her with a look Kara can’t quite decipher. “I wasn’t aware I’d have company this evening.”

“Oh. So those are your”—she fumbles for words—“personal pajamas, then?” Perhaps the world will do her a favor and send a siren screaming into the night sky.

No such luck.

“Right.” A beat. “Well, if that’s all…” Cat trails off.

“Yeah, I’ll—I’ll go.”

She flies back to her room and puts the bag by her door as a reminder to take it to the DEO tomorrow. Not that she thinks she’d forget a reason to be out of this stifling apartment tomorrow. Maybe she’ll fly by her old building, too, see how the construction is going.

After a few minutes of trying and failing to settle her thoughts, Kara decides that she should go apologize to Cat. After all, Cat, despite all the glass walls and big balcony windows, is a woman who values her privacy. Not in her public life where she happily smiles for the cameras and gets in front of the story and cherishes her ability to demand space and attention. But in her private life? Well, there’s a reason that Carter has only been in the papers a small handful of times—all but one of them very carefully controlled appearances with Cat to keep the paparazzi from resorting to the most distasteful of measures. And Kara has been granted access to her private sanctuary, only to show up on Cat’s balcony in the middle of the night. So…an apology.

With a deep breath, Kara sets off down the hallway, colliding with Cat as she rounds the corner to the master bedroom.

Her arms fly out and wrap around Cat, righting her before she can stumble back. “I’ve got you,” she whispers.

Cat’s breath catches in her throat, and Kara can hear her heart thundering in her chest.

“Sorry,” Kara mumbles, stepping back to give Cat space. “I mean, for this. And also for earlier. I didn’t mean to—to invade your space. Or surprise you. I kind of assumed the blinds would be closed.”

Cat nods. “They normally are. I was…I haven’t been sleeping well.”

“Oh.” Kara pulls her lower lip between her teeth, a war between her desire to help Cat in some way and her need for space before she does something stupid raging in her head. “I couldn’t focus on my book either. Do you maybe want to watch something? Or play a board game?”

Kara’s fully prepared for Cat’s refusal when she shocks them both by saying, “Fine.”

That night, over a shared bowel of the chocolates that Kara finds hidden in Cat’s cabinets and a rather generous glass of scotch for Cat—Kara politely refuses one of her own with a wrinkle of her nose—they settle in on the couch and try to find the same kind of easy rapport they’d been developing over the past few weeks.

The first half hour is a struggle.

After a few attempts at conversation stutter to a halt, they switch on the television, flipping through channels without really settling on anything.

Eventually, in the mindless channel surfing, they stumble across some new hour-long legal drama that has Cat pointing her glass at the screen. “Him—I interviewed him during his first show.”

“Oh wait, is that…” Kara can’t recall the name, though she thinks she might recall Cat’s interview. (And okay, maybe Alex had a point about her crush on Cat being visible from space.) “He played that medical prodigy when he was, like, 18, right?”

Cat hums in agreement. “He tried to ask me out after we filmed the show.”

“No!”

A wry smirk pulls up the corner of her mouth. “Something along the lines of, ‘I know a place where I could buy you a drink.’” She shakes her head, a strand of hair falling into her face. “I can only assume that place would have been his friend’s basement. Or the seediest bar in town.”

“That takes…guts.”

“And very little brains.”

“Was he your worst interviewee?”

“God no, not by a long shot.”

And suddenly the conversation flows easily again, Cat caught up in reminiscing, regaling Kara with horror stories from the years interspersed with happier moments with her favorite guests. Kara finally gets all the details about whatever little fling the tabloids had insisted Cat was having with John Stamos. There are whispered comments about sordid affairs Cat sat on, unwilling to compromise her integrity as she sought to make a name for herself that wasn’t still tied to her history at the _Daily Planet’s_ gossip column. A few laughing admissions about foul-mouthed guests whose segments nearly needed to be cut, so much had been bleeped out by the network censors. A mention or two of key alliances formed over the years, of the connections Cat made, glimpses of how she began to build the empire that would become CatCo.

Kara is scandalized and entertained and awed, in turn, and she can’t help moving closer and closer, until there are barely a few inches between them. Cat’s head rests against the back of the couch as she gestures broadly in front of her with her empty glass, and Kara’s propped her head up on her hand, gazing on in wonder.

There are so many more questions she wants to ask, so many things she wants to tell Cat, but the one that slips out from the jumble is: “You’re so beautiful.”

Cat freezes for a second, then slowly turns toward Kara, her eyes narrowed.

“Sorry!”

“What exactly is it that you’re apologizing for now?” Cat asks.

“I—I made you uncomfortable. Again. I mean, earlier I kind of thought we were both…but clearly we weren’t. Look, honestly I can go sleep at Alex’s place. It’s really not a big deal, let me just get my stuff, and I’ll be gone before you—”

“Kara,” Cat interjects. “Stop.”

“Okay.” She practically vibrates while waiting for Cat to say something—anything.

“When you say earlier, you mean…?”

“Um, on the balcony. I thought there was maybe a…thing happening. Between us. Like, maybe all the late nights had _meant_ something. Or been building to something.”

“Kara,” Cat sighs, placing her glass down on the end table and turning to face her head-on. “I have invited you into my home. Although you are no longer under my direct employ, I am still the visible head of CatCo, where you work.” Kara nods, her heart sinking. “So I would hope you could understand why I need you to be much less oblique about whatever it is you are suggesting. Because if this were something _you_ wanted to happen…” She trails off, leaving Kara to fill in the rest of the thought.

“And if I told you that I…”—Kara takes a deep breath, steels herself and tries to inhabit a bit more of her Supergirl persona—“that I want to kiss you?” Cat licks her lips, and Kara, drawing strength from what she hopes to Rao is a sign she isn’t completely misreading, forges on. “You’ve been so good to me, Cat. You invited me into your home, trusted me in your life, gave me advice, made me feel welcome.” She gives a shake of her head at the enormity of it all. “I’ve had feelings for you for a while. Living here just, well, made them a lot harder to ignore. But I can! If that’s what needs to happen, I can.”

But Cat’s shaking her head and looking at Kara with a touch of wonder in her gaze. “I told you once that you changed me, and I don’t change easily. But even still, do you really think I’d let any just employee into my home?”

Kara has a million-and-one follow up questions to that, but she decides they can (and probably should) wait. Instead, she leans forward, waiting until she sees Cat’s eyes flutter shut before she closes the distance, pressing a soft kiss to Cat’s lips.

It’s chaste and quiet and simple, and _still_ , Kara can’t help the massive smile stretching across her face when she pulls back.

Cat doesn’t beam back at Kara, but she gives her a little quirk of her lips before drawing Kara back in, cupping her jaw, and kissing her until Kara can’t remember her own name.


	4. Chapter 4

The delays are legitimate enough at first. After all, Cat tells Kara, one does not simply _ignore_ a contractor’s suggestion that they could try to expedite things but would do a better job if they waited for some of the new copper pipes to be shipped in from their distributor. And after nearly a month, what’s an extra week or two?

They make good use of their extra time.

Kara seems determined to make a good impression on Carter, even though she is, in Cat’s estimation, Carter’s second-favorite person of all time (first, if family members are excluded). Each night, she’s careful to make time for him, whether it’s spending an extra half-hour after dinner talking to him about his day or working with him on his homework and brainstorming ideas for the science fair the school will put on the following month, and Carter grows more and more comfortable around Kara with every passing day.

Afterwards, though, Kara is all Cat’s.

Oh, they still talk and work on Kara’s reporting, of course. Now that Snapper has deemed Kara worthy of a real news story every now and then, Cat has been giving Kara notes on how to conduct interviews, how to store her notes, how to make sure she won’t end up trusting the wrong sources. But after that, after Carter is tucked into bed and the dishes have been put away, Kara no longer goes straight to the guest room. No, she tiptoes down the hallway to Cat’s bedroom, lingering in the doorway each night until Cat rolls her eyes and gives her a proper invitation in—“God, it’s like dating a vampire,” she’d remarked one night, which had turned into an awkward, stilted conversation about whether they’re actually dating.

Cat doesn’t think she’s done this much kissing since she was a teenager at boarding school. But Kara is just as thoughtful about this as she is about everything else, and each night she leaves Cat looking thoroughly disheveled, having been kissed within an inch of her life.

At this point, Cat’s fairly certain she’s averaging about 3 hours of sleep a night, but she also hasn’t felt this happy and energized in ages, so she won’t complain. Even if she’s not quite sure what she’ll do when Kara leaves and they return to seeing each other only once or twice a week—or whatever is defined as appropriate for such an early stage of dating these days.

Which is why she isn’t exactly annoyed when Carter tells Kara, on the eve of her impending departure, that she _has_ to stay through the weekend because “I have that math placement test for next year you promised you’d help me study for.”

It’s important enough that neither of them think to question his reasoning, and it buys them a full five more days during which Kara makes up new math problems for Carter each night, and Cat makes several of Kara’s favorite meals, and Kara makes Cat come without even taking off her clothing. (The fact that Kara soars off as Supergirl before Cat can return the favor is decidedly unfair.)

On Monday night after the placement test, Kara picks up pizza from Carter’s favorite shop to celebrate.

“I don’t even know how I did yet,” he mumbles, even as he edges closer and closer toward the pizza.

“And? You tried your hardest, and you worked your butt off. That’s what we celebrate in this house.”

Kara freezes after she says it until Cat adds, “That’s right. And I can always call your principal and reminder her that standardized test scores are a horrendous measurement of student learning and potential if need be.”

He shakes his head, muttering something about “please don’t,” but he laughs a little as he says it and happily helps himself to three slices of pizza.

After dessert that night, Kara mentions that she’s going to check out the apartment the following evening and make sure it’s all ready before she flies her suitcases over.

A thousand excuses run through Cat’s mind, but Carter’s the one to insist, “We’ll go with you,” buying them both a little extra time.

And the next day, Carter is the one to point out that they’re still painting, shaking his head at Kara’s protests that it’s fine. “What if they see your suit?” he asks meaningfully, and Kara freezes.

“It’s a fair point, Kara.” Cat doesn’t question why her whole body seems to unclench at the perfectly reasonable excuse for Kara to stay through the end of the week, at least.

And then it’s the weekend, and Carter is back with his father again, and Kara seems to understand the gift they’ve been given in the form of a very empty apartment and hours upon hours of time together.

Cat overhears a hushed conversation with the sister about Supergirl duties and whatever organization she reports to not calling her for the night—and, oh, there’s a story there, Cat just knows it, but she figures if Supergirl can take a night off, maybe Cat Grant can, too. Besides, it’s not worth asking when Kara shows up in her bedroom doorway in nothing but boyshorts and the button-up she’d been wearing earlier.

That night, Cat doesn’t wait to extend an invitation.

Fisting Kara’s shirt in her hands, Cat drags her in for a heated kiss, throwing a leg around her waist and gasping at the feeling of strong arms lifting her up into the air and carrying her over to the bed without ever breaking the kiss.

The clothing comes off quickly. Cat’s pants go first. Then Kara’s shirt. Then Cat’s own, a few of the buttons now scattered across the floor.

All the perfectly defined muscles are, Cat will later concede, wholly expected on the Girl of Steel, yet in the moment all she can think is that she has been blessed with a literal goddess come to life in her bed, and she’s more than happy to worship her like she deserves.

Cat wants to spend all night seeing what it might take to leave Supergirl sated and exhausted. But Kara shakes her head, whispering, “Me first,” as she crawls between Cat’s legs, and really, how is Cat supposed to say no to an offer like that?

\---

Somewhere along the way, the excuses become a bit more tenuous.

On yet another Monday night when Kara’s bags are packed and stacked by the balcony door, a sulky Carter pushes green beans around his plate until Cat asks him what’s wrong.

“Kara and I had plans,” he says, a slight whine to his voice. “We were gonna work on my science fair project together.”

“It’s a whole month away, bud!” Kara insists.

“And? Kevin won last year, and his mom started working with him three whole months in advance! We’re already behind!”

Cat watches as Kara tries to diffuse the tension with easy jokes—things like, “Luckily I have superspeed,” and, “It’s alright, I’m from a planet that’s about a millennium ahead of yours in science, so you’re really not behind at all.”

The jokes do manage to pull smiles from Carter, who finally sighs and says, “I just…it’s fun having you here.”

And that more than anything is enough to have Kara hedging, promising to come over and help him as much as Cat will allow.

Of course, everyone who’s ever gotten particularly close to Cat—which is limited to about five people, two of whom are sitting at this table—know she’s a soft touch when it comes to Carter, so she has a ready-made excuse to tell Kara she’s welcome to simply stay in the guest room a bit longer if that would be easier.

If Cat happens to buy all of Kara’s favorite foods during that time and do her best to make sure Kara is much too happy and exhausted by the end of the night to even think about flying home, well…it’s fine. She enjoys having Kara around, yes. She likes having a second adult in the home. She loves seeing the way Carter lights up at having someone who seems to care for him almost as much as Cat does around all the time. And, yes, she enjoys their conversations just as much as the sex and doesn’t particularly want to sacrifice this level of closeness for the early stages of a dating game she feels too old to play. But they haven’t moved in together—not really. They’re not some lesbian cliché that Lois would use as fodder to tease her about for the rest of her life. It’s simply convenient. After all, Kara still _has_ her own apartment, even if she doesn’t spend much (read: any) time there.

Still, it’s a pleasant surprise when Kara is the next one to find a reason to stay. At least, it’s pleasant until Kara quietly mentions, after they’ve celebrated Carter’s second-place science fair victory with ice cream sundaes and a weekend-long marathon game of Settlers of Catan, that she needs to stay with Cat because Leslie has escaped from prison and might come after her.

Two days off the electrical grid later, Leslie comes flashing through the screens at CatCo, apparently preferring to target Cat at work where she’s guaranteed instant coverage. After all the property destruction of Livewire’s last attack, Cat had special ordered surge protectors for all of the electronic devices in the office, and she keeps her fingers crossed that they work. The insurance company had been very firm in their insistence that they would not pay to replace every single monitor again. _Ever_ again.

Luckily, Kara and a team of agents in all-black manage to contain Livewire much more quickly this time, and the threat to Cat’s life disappears with little fanfare. Kara still stays at the apartment through the weekend, though, determined to ensure that Cat is safe. No one says a word about it.

At a certain point, they all seem to realize there are no more _legitimate_ reasons for Kara to need to stay in the penthouse another night.

It doesn’t stop them from turning to the decidedly ridiculous ones.

First, Carter remembers a game of Monopoly that they’d abandoned after tempers began running high that they absolutely _must_ finish before Kara leaves.

Then Cat visits the apartment with Kara—mostly to christen every solid surface in it during one of Carter’s weekends with his father—and insists, only after, that the place feels musty. Neither of them points out that it’s probably from what has become three months of disuse. Instead Cat calls in a mold specialist who she instructs to be thorough, no matter how long it takes.

Later, during yet another dinner that is meant to be her last, Kara gasps in the midst of her chopsticks-turned-lightsabers duel with Carter, “Oh my gosh! I just remembered that your mom’s never seen _Star Wars_! Obviously we have to fix that.”

Carter opens his mouth to point out that, actually, his mom has watched all of them at least twice and even read some of the books with him back when he still got bedtime stories each night. Realizing his near mistake, he clamps his mouth shut again before smiling and nodding sagely. “Wow, there’s, like, a dozen of them. We’d better start soon!”

\---

It’s at some point during Kara’s fifth month with the Grants—after her first official game night hosted there but before Alex has come right out and demanded to know what Cat’s intentions are with Kara, even if Kara has insisted they’re still in the “early months of dating”—that Kara moves her things back to her apartment.

Mind you, she still heads back to Cat’s place that evening because Carter got an A- on his _Romeo and Juliet_ paper that really ought to be celebrated, and they still have new _Great British Bake-Off_ episodes that Kara made them swear they wouldn’t watch without her. Then Cat gives her a kiss goodbye that makes Kara’s toes curl, and she couldn’t just leave after that, now could she?

Still, she manages a handful of nights at her old apartment. Sister nights still happen there because _tradition_ , and also Kara doesn’t want Alex grilling her about her relationship with Cat in front of Cat and Carter. Every so often she sleeps in her old bed, which feels so much less comfortable now than it used to, just to prove to Cat and herself that they can do a night apart any time they want. Kara also takes to going back to her apartment to clean up on nights when she winds up covered in soot or dirt or alien substances better left outside of the penthouse. And she crashes there when Supergirl fights keep her out into the early hours of the morning—at least until Cat mentions she gets nervous not knowing whether or not Kara is okay after watching her on the news. Then Kara starts making stopovers at Cat’s place first to show her that she’s safe and sound, at which point it really doesn’t make sense to go back to her apartment for a couple of hours of sleep.

By the end of the year, Kara has spent, perhaps, a couple dozen nights in her own apartment.

Alex buys her an anniversary card and a $50 U-Haul giftcard. Inside the card she writes little more than: “Happy anniversary to the only two women who haven’t admitted they’re living together yet! Stop paying rent on your empty apartment.”

Carter buys her a lightsaber keychain for the keys she now has not only to the penthouse, but also to Cat’s beach house and the “family-friendly” SUV that Cat insisted on giving Kara a key to in case of any future emergencies that might require Kara to pick Carter up from school because “I will not have Supergirl swooping in and putting a target on my son’s back, no matter how cool he thinks it would make him.”

Kara takes Cat out to dinner that night, and Cat buys a second nightstand to match her own, sets it up on Kara’s unofficial side of the bed, carefully stacks the handful of novels and the spare pair of glasses that Kara has left at the penthouse over the months on the corner of it.

“Are we…are we just living together here?” Kara asks finally.

“I think that’s up to you, dear. You have keys to both of my homes, and you’ve not once been turned away from my balcony.”

“But are you…are you ready for the press and the possible danger that would come with living with Supergirl?”

Cat arches an eyebrow. “Do you really not know?”

“Know what?”

With a huff, Cat pulls out her phone and, after a moment of typing, hands it over to Kara. In all-caps, a tabloid site headline screams out, “NATIONAL CITY’S RESIDENT HERO SHACKS UP WITH MEDIA MOGUL CAT GRANT.”

“I had no idea. But if you don’t want this—I mean, I could understand why you wouldn’t, and I can get used to my bed again, I swear. We could deny it, or—”

“Kara, that headline is almost a year old. They pretended to be shocked. Then they loved us. By now, we’re old news.”

“Oh.” Kara blinks. “Well…we can’t disappoint our fans.”

“Mm, yes, that’s the reason you’re staying,” Cat hums.

Grinning, Kara sweeps Cat into her arms. “Or is it because Carter needs a live-in tutor? Or you just happened to buy my favorite cookies and can’t have them lying around the house?”

Cat fixes her with a half-hearted glare. “Perhaps it’s because you need to make sure I don’t watch a single episode of television without you.”

“The first watch together is a very important experience,” Kara insists, pulling Cat in for a soft kiss.

“We’ll tell Carter the news in the morning. I’m fairly certain he and your sister have an ice cream bet riding on when we’ll figure it out.”

“So long as he gives us a cut of the winnings…”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on Twitter and Tumblr @sapphicscholar


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